Christmas in Mariposa - Part One

Ah, Christmas Day.

It doesn't get much better than watching my little neice and nephew, Marin and Joaquin, open their Christmas presents...





Or eating all the delicious food that my in-laws cooked for all twenty of us without even batting an eyelash (yes, that was TWENTY!):



Or driving through Yosemite National Park on a beautiful winter's day:




Yup, life is GOOD.

A Taste of What's to Come

Saturday, my friend Holley and I headed out the door in the morning to have a "Girls Day Out" and to hit the stores one last time in search of Christmas presents. We knew the stores were going to be crowded, but we were really excited because someone had lent us their handicap parking placard, meaning that we could park RIGHT IN FRONT of almost any store we wanted. How COOL is that?! (I know this seems a little bit evil, but since my back DOES hurt like hell on a fairly regular basis, I was able to rationalize any guilty feelings I may have had and decided to just enjoy it.)

The first thing we did was hit the infamous McDonald's (you know, the one place I'm not allowed to go), and get a Fruit and Yogurt Parfait for breakfast. (I was proud of my fairly healthy choice, considering the other grease laden options available to me.) Then, we took deep breaths and charged into Target, the first store on our list, with fierce determination. It has just opened, but it was already filled to the brim with shoppers practically running each other over with carts full of Christmas crap. Ah, the Spirit of the Season! As I was waddling down one of the aisles trying to elbow my way into the toy section, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my stomach.Hmmmm, I thought, that Fruit and Yogurt Parfait isn't agreeing with me. I guess that's my punishment for sneaking off to the evil Golden Arches.

Fast forward to 20 minutes later and I'm hunched over my shopping cart trying to breathe through the pain that's ripping through my abdomen. I was trying to act like nothing was wrong, but it was getting really hard and inside I was starting to freak out. I mean, what if I was in LABOR?! Dear God! I'm not ready for this yet! We don't even have a crib, or any baby clothes - I haven't even taken Lamaze class yet! I don't know how to BREATHE!!

I finally gave up on appearing to be calm and I sat down on the floor, right in the middle of the toy department. (And while I was down there trying to distract myself, I actually found some nifty gifts for Holley's nieces on the bottom shelf - go figure!) Once the pain had subsided enough for me to get up, we went through the checkout as quickly as possible (I couldn't let the shopping excursion be a TOTAL waste) and then, evil or not, thank goodness we were parked in the handicap spot close by! I called Hoby to let him know what was up and as soon as I got home, he got me out of the car and into bed, lecturing me all the while on the wickedness of McDonald's food and how it had probably made me go into labor. Uh, yeah, right. Thankfully, as soon as I was lying down, the pain started to go away.

And then, as quickly as it started, it was GONE. I was SO relieved! After calling a few people and reading some of my pregnancy books, we finally realized that I had just had my first run in with "False Labor". Somehow, I had never thought that Braxton Hicks contractions were painful - I just thought my stomach muscles would tighten up a few times and that would be the end of it. Shows what I know, eh? Let's just hope I don't have too many more of these "practice runs" - I was NOT enjoying myself one bit. And I know this is probably small potatoes compared to the real thing! If this is a taste of what's to come, then I'm not ashamed in the least to say that Mr. Epidural Man is going to become my new best friend!

Hoby made me spend the rest of the day with my feet up in bed. He went out and got some DVDs for us to watch and guess what he brought home? Super Size Me - a movie all about the evilness of McDonald's food. Ah, my husband, you've just gotta love him!

My Husband, The Cook

Since I've been pregnant, Hoby has been wonderful about cooking dinner.  He gets home before me most nights, so he usually has something ready by the time I walk in the door. And to a pregnant woman, walking in and being handed a hot meal at the end of a long day is as close to heaven as it gets. 

 

He wasn't always this eager to help out in the kitchen, however.  One night (before I was pregnant and when I was still doing most of the cooking), I knew that I was going to be late getting home, so I called Hoby and asked him to cook the chicken I had left defrosting in the fridge.  He told me that he wasn't sure how to prepare it, but I assured him that he had cooked chicken long before I ever came into the picture, so I was sure that he would think of something.

 

Well, about an hour later, I walk in the door completely starving and the first thing I notice is that I don't smell anything cooking. So I say to Hoby "What happened to the chicken?", and he says,  "Well, how about we go to McDonalds instead?"  (Side note: I'm ashamed to admit it, but I LOVE McDonald's Filet-O-Fish sandwiches and Hoby hates it when I eat McDonalds, so for him to say this was a BIG deal.) So of course, I jump at the chance and off we go.

 

Once we get there, I run up to the counter to order my precious Filet-O-Fish sandwich before he can change his mind, and when I'm finished, I turn to him and say "So what are you having?" and he says, "Nothing, I made myself a chicken sandwich at the house." 

 

Uh, WHAT???? YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!

 

Yes, folks, it's true. He managed to make himself a chicken sandwich but somehow couldn't manage to make me dinner, too.  I spent about 5 minutes trying to explain why this was just plain WRONG, and then, well, at least I got a Filet-O-Fish sandwich out of it! 

 

I like the way he is now MUCH better. (I love ya, honey!)

 

 

The King of Gift Givers

My brother, Jeremy, is the most generous gift giver in the WHOLE WORLD. For our wedding gift last year he gave us Tivo with a life time subscription - and my God, people, how did we ever live before we had Tivo in our house?! Now, for Chrismukkah (we're an interfaith family, in case you didn't know), he gave us a freakin' DIGITAL CAMERA! Does this guy RULE or what?! We love you, Jeremy!

So here is our very first attempt to share our pictures with the blogging world:



How stoked are we?!

A New Definition of Enjoyment

Week 27

After a few weeks of being worried for no reason (one of my specialties), we got the results back from my Gestational Diabetes test and they were normal. THANK GOD. Being pregnant is enough trouble already without having to go on a special diet and check my blood every few hours, don't you think? I can't even imagine!

Someone actually asked me the other day how I was enjoying my pregnancy. ENJOYING? Did they say ENJOYING? HA! Am I ENJOYING having my body completely out of my control and having to pee every half hour? Am I ENJOYING the exhaustion, the constant back aches, the waddle that is becoming more pronounced every day, and the inability to tie my own shoes? I DON'T THINK SO. I know there are some women out there who love being pregnant, but I think I've gotten over the fact that I am NOT one of them.

However, there are moments like right now when I can feel Rory moving around in there and I think to myself, isn't that AMAZING?! There's actually a baby in there. A baby that Hoby and I made, kicking his cute little baby feet! How extraordinary is that? And then, my friends, it's all worth it.

You Go, Grandpa!

If you were to look up "Jewish Grandpa" in the dictionary, there would no doubt be a picture of my Grandpa Greene in there. Imagine a bald, barrel-chested old man in a wife beater with plaid pants from the 60's pulled up practically to his chin, then top it off with a hairy chest and gold chains around the neck. No that's not an exaggeration, that's my Gramps in all his glory!

He's actually a pretty amazing guy for his age. Although he's in his 90's, he still does 75 push ups and heads out on a long walk every day. He's very independent - as a matter of fact, he's on a cruise to the Hawaiin islands right now ALL BY HIMSELF. I'm actually a bit worried about him considering the fact that he can't hear very well (actually, to be frank, he's almost completely deaf) so I'm wondering if he's able to communicate with anyone onboard the ship. Not only is he deaf, but he's also got a really short temper - I'm sure that someone on that ship is going to feel the wrath of Grandpa at some point during the trip. Probably some poor waiter who doesn't bring his food fast enough. Gramps can get violent if he doesn't get his food. He may be in his 90's, but he's been known to shove people out of his way in buffet lines because they were taking too long. I kid you not.

My Grandpa knows that he can't hear, but sometimes I think that he likes to pretend that he does. Once when I was flying into Florida (the Jewish Grandparent Mecca of the World), my flight got delayed, so I tried calling my grandparents on a pay phone to tell them that I'd be late. But instead of my Grandma answering (which would make sense since she COULD hear), my Grandpa answers the phone. I yell "Hello!" and I hear him say "Hello? Hello?" Then he says "I don't hear anybody there." and he hangs up! Well, of course you can't hear anybody there, Grandpa, because you're deaf! So I call back and AGAIN my Grandpa answers, so I'm standing in the middle of this crowded airport yelling into a pay phone at the top of my lungs, "GRANDPA - PUT GRANDMA ON THE PHONE!". He STILL can't hear me and as he's hanging up on me I hear him yelling "Damn kids playin' tricks on me!" Ugh. Needless to say, they were very worried when I showed up several hours later than expected and my Grandpa was upset that I hadn't called to tell him about my plane being delayed. Sighhhh...I didn't have the heart to explain it to him.

Anyways, here's to you, Gramps! Enjoy cruisin' the Hawaiin islands. May your plate be filled in a timely manner and your temper be on vacation!